Well I wrote something. It came to me in the middle of the night and it started writing itself.

It is RPS so be forewarned. It's Dave Boreanaz/James Marsters slash so if this offends anyone, DON'T READ!!!

Title: My Life as a GopherChapter: 1/?Pairing: JM/DBWarnings: THIS IS RPS. I don't know about anything too horrible in this. As the story progresses I'll put in the warnings that apply.Disclaimers: These are not, in any way, shape or form, real situations. I don't know the actors personally and this has nothing to do with them. This is all just in my head. Feedback: Yes, please. And flames are okay - I'll let you borrow my Ellen Ripley sized flame thrower.

Chapter 1

My name is Phil.

My momma always said that I would finally find my dream job. She was right, but then momma was always right.

I'm a gopher. Not a gopher like the little one on Caddyshack that Bill Murray was chasing and trying to kill with dynamite. He was cute. The gopher, not Bill Murray. Then again, I wish I was as good looking as Bill Murray. Maybe I'd get laid a little more often. Momma says not to worry, my day will come. I think Momma is a little biased.

Anyways, sorry about that. Momma also says I get sidetracked too easily.

I'm a gopher. You know. I "go for" this and I "go for" that.

I work on the set of this T.V. show called Angel. Maybe you've heard of it.

Kind of a weird show but momma says I shouldn't judge about such things. Like momma would know. She watches them religious T.V. preacher shows. Of course, momma don't know that I caught her watching Jerry Springer one night.

Momma could be hypocritical.

I got this job because of Neapolitan or...or...nepotism. That's it! Nepotism. It's cause I know someone who knows someone who slept with someone in the industry. I don't really know what that makes me. Then again, what does all this have to do with ice cream, I'll never know. Hollywood sure is a strange place.

But it got me this cool job on this here T.V. set. My boss is Uncle Joss. Hee hee. That rhymes. Course, I'm not allowed to call him Uncle Joss on the set. Something about everyone being jealous of me if they knew I was related to him, him being the big cheese and all.

So he tells me to go for this or go for that and I go get it and bring it back to the person making me go for it in the first place. Why a grown person can't go get something for themselves, I'll never know. I asked momma that once and she said I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

The next in command is this big guy named Dave Boreanaz. He's the star of the show. He plays Angel. I have to call him Mister Boreanaz. Everyone who knows him real well gets to call him Dave, except for Jimmy. He gets to call him Davey.

He gets to call him Davey alot of the time. Jimmy usually follows Davey up with something like, "Please Davey, take me!"

Now I wonder where Jimmy needs Mister Boreanaz to take him to. I could take him. I have a car you know. Momma said I needed to learn how to drive to get around this place.

I would take Jimmy where he needed to go and he wouldn't have to beg me neither.